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In For Eleven Or Your Locked Out!


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In previous threads Ive moaned about our old man being hard on me as a early teenager in the 60s.I was always out at night with mates or some female,the old boy wouldn,t let me have a key it was[be home by 11 pm or the doors locked]which he did,my sisters having to wait till the old sod dropped off to let me in.Anyhow one certain night I,d cut it a bit fine timewise and was running down Liversey St to our cottage,it was always lonely down there our house being the only one.As I passed the dog track I notice 3 youths coming towards me with a rope stretched between them,they were whispering and laughing,I crossed to the other side,they crossed as well,I thought [That ropes for me],now I,was more scared of our old man than these towrags so I ran straight at em ,I kicked the middle one on the shin as hard as I could,turned and thumped number2,number3 bolted off .They lay screaming[We were only messing about!]I ran home ,got in the house bang on 11pm to be greeted by[Where the Bloody Hell have you been,your late!]=I thought[i give up!]and went to bed!.:roll::(:help:

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My dad was the same kinda...

 

I'd take my key and come back at some untimely hour. Usually after a skin full.

Get to the front door all nice and quiet, and attempt to put my key in the door.

Bumhats. He's left the key in the other side. I knock, he shouts out the window..."Where's your key" My response .." I know where mine is, where's yours?" Aaagh, I've left it in the door.

 

:D

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